Not so Spoilt
by Lupa Dracolis
Summary: Snape seems to think the Marauders were all spoilt brats. Well, let's find out if he's right. Rating for implied violence. Oneshot.


**Not so Spoilt**

Sirius

"Hah! You think you got it? You got nothing!" Sirius announced to his new best friend, James, flexing his barely visible muscles impressively across the dorm room. This was a perfectly normal occurrence, so normal even that Remus didn't roll his eyes at his friend, who was making exaggerated body builder poses whilst standing on his bed, naked from the waist up. This had been going on since the beginning of the year, and to be honest Remus was looking forward to the autumn half-term where he would be spared this awful macho posturing.

The half term had been and gone, and Sirius seemed to have completely forgotten his and James' tradition of macho posturing. Instead, he always seemed to sneak out of the room and down to the toilets to get changed into his pyjamas.

Remus had confessed his fear for Sirius to James and Peter, who had agreed with him that something should be done. As a result, when Sirius returned from his trip, he found the other three sitting on the ends of their beds, waiting for him.

"What's the matter, guys?" He asked them, trying to sound casual.

"You never change in here anymore." Was the soft reply from Remus. Sirius laughed nervously.

"Sorry if you miss the show Remus…" He trailed off when he saw this wasn't something they were going to let him shrug off. His expression became bitter.

"Fine, you want to know why I don't change in here? I'll let you all have a good gawk then." Sirius reached down and pulled the hem of his pyjama top up, over his chest and head, exposing the bare skin underneath. His three friends gasped. Instead of the slightly tanned, lean form they had been expecting, they saw patches of mottled brown and green and mauve. His entire torso was covered in bruises. Sirius laughed, but there was no humour in his voice when he told them,

"A Black who's a supposed 'blood-traitor' gets to be cousin Bella's toy while at home. I had to sneak out even to get back here… good thing the station is within walking distance of Grimmauld Place." There was another shocked pause, before James said, angrily,

"You're coming home with me over the holidays from now on, you hear?"

**The Blacks had always been Slytherins… how happy do you think they were to see their oldest son in red and gold?**

James

James sat, staring at the letter in his hand, face drained completely of colour. The owl that had delivered it hooted softly, as if it knew the contents. Sirius glanced over, and jumped in his seat.

"Bloody hell, James, what's the matter?" He asked, concern etched clearly on his face. For a long time, James didn't answer, before finally choking out

"M…my p…parents." He thrust the letter into Sirius' hand, and raced from the hall, full of breakfasting students. Sirius glanced down at the letter he held, and his face too began to pale.

"Tell McGonagall we'll be late!" He ordered a surprised Peter, before pulling Remus out of the room and up to Gryffindor tower.

"What's…the…matter?" Remus panted, running as fast as he could after Sirius, who still had a firm grasp on Remus' wrist. Suddenly, he skidded to a halt.

"It's his parents… Merlin's beard Remus, they've died." Remus blanched, then ran off after Sirius to comfort their friend as best they could.

**J. K. Rowling describes James' parents as old at his birth and they clearly aren't around when Harry is born, as he would otherwise be sent to them rather than the Dursleys.**

Lupin

_I've been very naughty. I left teddy outside, and now it's starting to rain. Mummy said he was reeeeally expensive… Maybe I could go and get him before he gets too wet?_ This decided, six-year-old Remus Lupin sneaked out of bed, past his parents' bedroom door, down the stairs and finally to the back door, which led out into the garden. He lifted the latch, and crept through the door, leaving it ajar. _Now, where did I leave teddy?_ Young Remus pondered. Then he noticed some dark grey fur at the opposite side of the garden, half under some bushes. The light drizzle was uncomfortable, but it did not impede his vision; vision which was helped by the full moon that shone bright through the thin cloud covering.

Upon reaching the toy, Remus bent down and picked it up, holding it carefully in his arms. It wriggled slightly, but recognised him, and hugged his arm affectionately. The small boy was just turning around to re-enter the house when he heard a growl behind him. His eyes widened, and he spun back around. There was a large, furry shape moving slowly towards him. Remus stumbled backwards through the drizzle, stifling a scream. _Don't want to wake up mummy and daddy. They'll be angry._ Were his thoughts before he slipped on the drizzle-dampened grass, and fell. The shape lunged at him, and he had time to let out a high pitched scream before it was on him.

"Aren't you done yet?" Sirius moaned, glaring at Remus in an accusatory way.

"It's not my fault your essay needs so much correcting, Sirius." Remus answered crisply, striking his quill through yet another mistake.

"But I need to write it out for tomorrow! And it's already seven o'clock!" Remus froze.

"S…seven?" He whispered, horrified. He leapt to his feet and sprinted for the tapestry of the fat lady.

"Hey, where're you going!" Sirius demanded.

"I have to visit my aunt!" Remus yelled back at him, running, it seemed, for his life.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid. How could he have missed the passage of time like that?_ Remus berated himself as he ran flat out for the Whomping Willow. He was just within reaches of its branches when the first pain of the transformation hit him. He screamed loudly, and ran even faster, dodging the lashing branches, pressing the knot on the trunk, and diving down the passage-way.

The next day, he left the hospital wing just in time to catch the very end of breakfast. He slid into place next to Sirius, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw the boy nod almost imperceptibly at James. Suddenly, he was lifted bodily from his seat by Sirius, and manhandled by him and James back to the dorm room, followed closely by Peter. There was only one reason they would treat him like this; _they knew._ The two dumped him on his bed, before standing in front of them, Peter by their side. Remus kept his head down.

"Visiting your aunt, eh?" Sirius asked. "She lives in the Whomping Willow then, does she?" James interrupted him.

"We may not be as intelligent as you, Remus, but we _can_ remember when our friend tells us neither of his parents have brothers or sisters, just like him… and we can work out easy enough what it means when someone runs off on the night of the full moon, minutes before the moon itself appears." Sirius took over again.

"This is totally unacceptable, Remus. How could you not tell us something like this?"

"I…I'm sorry. It was just so nice to actually have friends." He mumbled in response, face burning red. He had never had friends, past the age of six.

"Well, this is going to stop now, got it?" James again. He was angry, and justifiably.

"Y…yes, I understand. I'll go to Professor McGonagall and ask her to let me move to the hospital wing. I'll sleep there at night, and I'll take all my stuff with me."

"What?" Sirius' genuine bewilderment was enough to make his head snap up. "Mate, we're pissed at you for not telling us, but that's a bit extreme, don't you think?" Remus' jaw dropped.

"But…but I'm a werewolf. You know, a blood-thirsty monster? Don't you…aren't you afraid I'll murder you in your sleep or something?" James sighed, and exchanged weary glances with Sirius.

"Remus, you're our friend. So you get a little furry once in a while…doesn't stop you from being Remus Lupin the rest of the time, does it?" Remus' eyes slowly widened in astonishment. If this was really true… if they really meant it…

"Besides," Sirius added, "me and James have come up with the perfect idea!"

**Remus is used to being treated as a monster at the age of eleven… and yes, my werewolf is furry. Werewolves have fur, people!**

Peter

I've always been the worst at everything; the only reason my mum loved me so much was because dad died, and I had no brothers or sisters. I'm nowhere near as good as the others at _anything_. Remus is so smart, and Sirius is brilliant at quidditch, and James is a natural at charms and hexes. And then there's me. Stupid Peter, bumbling Peter, idiot Peter… my animagus form is a _rat_, for goodness sake! How much more pathetic can you get? And don't think I don't know that they're all much closer to each other than they are to me; James and Sirius are practically brothers, and Remus isn't much further than that… and then there's me, their little fan who they let join in with their stunts and practical jokes. I know I'll never be truly one of them, and it hurts, but do you know what hurts more? _The Sorting Hat didn't know where to put me_. I'm not ambitious, so Slytherin's out; I'm not clever; or brave… I'd like to think I was loyal, but I know I'm not really. So it asked me, where do I want to go? Seeing as Sirius and Remus had already been sorted into Gryffindor, and James was obviously headed there too, that was my choice. I'm fairly certain I chose right, I mean, what boy in our year wouldn't give his hand to be friends with the Marauders?

**Poor Peter, knows he's rubbish at everything…**


End file.
